Vane looked searchingly in the inventor’s face.
“Why, it couldn’t explode,” cried Vane.
“My dear Vane, pray do not be so stubborn,” said Aunt Hannah.
“I don’t want to be, aunt, but I’ve done lots of things of this kind, and I know well enough that if you fill a kettle with water, solder down the lid, and stop up the spout, and then set it on the fire, it will burst, just as our boiler did; but this can’t. Look, uncle, here is a place where the steam and air can escape, so that it can’t go off.”
“But it did, my boy, it did.”
“What, made from that plan?”
“No, not from that, but from the one I had down here,” said Mr Deering; and he took out his keys, opened the square tin box, and drew out a carefully folded plan, drawn on tracing linen, and finished in the most perfect way.
“There,” said the inventor, as Vane lifted the lamp, and this was laid over the plan from which it had been traced; “that was the work-people’s reference—it is getting dirty now. You see it was traced from the paper.”
“Yes, I see, and the men have followed every tracing mark. Well, I say that the engine or machine, or whatever you call it, could not burst.”
The inventor smiled sadly, but said no more, and Vane went on poring over the coloured drawing, with all its reference letters, and sections and shadings, while the doctor began conversing in a low tone.